Z I'm Coming Home
by Fanatical Writer
Summary: For years, Bianca Stratford had been searching for the perfect family. She had no idea she'd find it with fellow alum and widower Cameron James and his two children. Sides of Katrick. FutureFic
1. Prologue

**Summary:**

**For years, Bianca Stratford had been searching for the perfect family—and she found it in her job as a photographer for Traditional Country Magazine. Travelling all over the country, Bianca meets lots of people, but never stays in one place for long. And that's how she likes it. Until widower Cameron James comes crashing back into her life. Although they'd gone to high school together, Bianca and Cameron hadn't run in the same circles. They'd been friends for a brief amount of time, but after Cameron had professed his love for Bianca and found it unrequited, they'd gone their separate ways. Until Bianca lost her virginity to him on graduation night. And left the next morning before he woke up.**

**But Cameron isn't the fumbling young man he'd once been. He's grown into a self-assured, sexy man—and a father of two. **_**This **_**Cameron is a man who Bianca finds it hard to resist. Can she get over her fear of abandonment and put the past behind her to move on with Cameron? With a meddlesome father, sister, brother-in-law and twin nephews, **_**anything**_** goes!**

_Author's Note: This is a future fic, so I've matured the characters to fit their age groups, but I'll try my best to keep them in character!_

"Do you _have_ to go, Aunt B?" William asked as he sat on the edge of her bed in the guestroom, swinging his little legs as he spoke.

Bianca smiled at her four year old nephew. "I have a job to do," she reminded him as she ruffled his hair.

"When are you going to get your _own_ house?" Wilson, her _other_ four-year old nephew asked.

Bianca's eyes danced with amusement. "Are you two getting sick of me?" she asked.

The twins giggled. "No," they said in unison.

"OK," Bianca said. "Whose turn is it to sit on my suitcase?" she asked.

"Mine!" they said at the same time, each throwing an arm in the air.

Bianca laughed. "I think you might both fit," she said, lifting first one, then the other so they were sitting on her suitcase. She made a show of pretending difficulty as she zipped it up. "Whoo," she said, wiping her forehead with exaggeration. "Thank God for you two or I might _never_ have gotten this beast zipped," she said.

Wilson studied her face. "Mom says you have a flair for melodrama," he said seriously.

"Yes, well, your mother talks too much!" Bianca shot back.

"That's what daddy says!" William piped in.

"Well, that had better be our secret!" Bianca said conspiratorially. "We don't want your dad getting into trouble."

"Why would Patrick be in trouble?" Kat asked, coming into the room and sitting down on the bed next to the suitcase that her sons were occupying.

"Oh, no reason," Bianca said, turning to the boys and putting a finger to her lips and following it with a "Sshh!"

"You're teaching my kids to lie to me?" Kat asked, faking appall.

"As a matter of fact, I am," Bianca said breezily.

Kat rolled her eyes. "That is _just_ like you," she joked.

"Yes, it is," Bianca agreed.

"Boys, I think your dad's in the kitchen eating all your popsicles," Kat said.

"What!?" Wilson yelled.

"He better _not_ eat all of them!" William joined in. They both jumped down off the bed and fled the room.

"And _I'm _teaching them to lie?" Bianca said dryly as Kat lay down on the queen sized bed and got comfortable.

"I needed a break," Kat said.

"They were at Dad's all weekend," Bianca said in disbelief. It was Monday.

"They were Patrick's idea," Kat muttered.

"As if you could live without them," Bianca returned.

Kat grinned. "They _do_ tend to grow on you," she agreed. Much to her surprise, Kat loved being a mother. And she thought she was even pretty good at it.

Bianca grinned. "You _do_ know they're going to be heartbreakers, right?" she said. "I mean—they've got those piercing eyes that Patrick has."

"Bianca Stratford, are you hot for my husband?" Kat teased.

"Eww, no!" Bianca said. "That's so—incesty!"

Kat laughed. "That's not a word."

"Well, it should be for occasions such as this!" Bianca whined.

Kat grinned at her sisters' trademark personality trait. Even at 28 years of age, Bianca was still at it. "So, off to Boston," she said, changing the subject.

Bianca nodded as she hefted her suitcase onto the floor and lay down on the bed beside her sister. "Yep," she said. "Another photo-shoot for next years Christmas issue."

Kat nodded. "Sounds fun."

Bianca wrinkled her nose. "I guess," she said.

"You guess?"

"I'm sick of travelling," Bianca admitted.

"Well, maybe it's time to put down some roots," Kat said carefully. This was a subject she and her sister had visited many times before, and it never ended pretty.

"I don't want to put down roots," Bianca said stubbornly.

Kat sighed. "Ever since Joey left you, it's like you've been…shut down. It's like you're closed off from all of us, Bianca."

"He cheated on me!" Bianca said heatedly.

"Four years ago," Kat said softly.

Bianca took a deep breath.

"And I think _that..._coupled with the fact that mom left us—"

"She died!" Bianca said, cutting her sister off.

"Yes, she did. But I…think it might have left you with unresolved abandonment issues."

"I don't have time for this," Bianca said, sitting up.

"I'm sorry if I upset you," Kat said softly.

Bianca sighed and lay back down next to her sister. "You didn't upset me. You just…struck a nerve," she admitted. "I _know_ I'm screwed up."

Kat grinned. "Don't worry. I won't tell dad."

"Yes, you will," Bianca said knowingly. "So I might as well pretend to have some control over it and tell you to go ahead.

"Gee, thanks," Kat said sarcastically. "I only tell him because he's the only one who can get through that thick head of yours most of the time."

"I happen to think my head is perfect, thank you," Bianca said in a sing-song voice.

Kat grinned. "You're so vain."

"Hey, if you've got it, flaunt it!" Bianca said jokingly, and then sobered. "I know I need to change some things, Kat. I can't be globetrotting forever. And I won't. But for now…this works for me," she said.

Kat nodded. "I know," she said. And then, "What?" she asked at her sisters' grin.

Bianca shook her head. "It's just…it's like we've switched places. You're all…maternal and stuff. And now, _I'm_ the independent one."

"I'm still independent," Kat muttered.

"Hey, babe!" they heard Patrick yell from downstairs. "The oil in your car is all set!"

Kat sighed dreamily. "I don't know _what_ I'd do without him," she said as she jumped up off the bed and sprinted from the room.

Bianca rolled her eyes. _The picture of independence, _she thought sarcastically. Her sister had been married for eight years, and she and Patrick _still_ acted like newlyweds.

Try as she might, Bianca couldn't quell the jealousy rearing its ugly head. In high school, Kat had been the one who wasn't interested in boys. Bianca had been head over heels for a new one every day. She thought for sure she'd be the sister who settled down first. But then Patrick came along, and while he hadn't been quite able to tame Kat, her sister _had_ been smitten—well, as much as Kat Stratford _could_ be smitten. But in true Kat style, of course she hadn't admitted it. But she had ended up married to Patrick and now here they were, in Bronxville, New York. Kat was a professor at Sarah Lawrence, and Patrick had just opened up his dream shop—repairing motorcycles.

Bianca sighed. She couldn't imagine ever settling down. Her job took her all over—and some times out of—the country. And while she loved it, it certainly didn't shout stability. She _knew_ something was missing from her life. She just wished she knew what it was.


	2. Chapter 1

Bianca turned her radio off and the volume on her GPS up. She entered the address that would lead her to the James estate and after signaling into traffic and making her way to the highway, she clipped her Bluetooth on and hit number one on the speed dial. Her sister picked up on the third ring.

"Hello?" Kat said, sounding a bit harried. But that wasn't uncommon these days. William and Wilson kept her running most of the time.

"Hey," Bianca said.

"Bianca!" Kat said. "I'm so glad to her from you. Patrick! I'm going upstairs. It's Bianca and I want to talk to her!" Bianca heard a muffled response, and then a sigh from Kat. "Boy, did you call at just the right time."

Bianca laughed. "What's going on?"

"Oh, the boys decided that they needed to finger paint Harley Davidson," she said. Bianca could almost hear her sister roll her eyes. "And the freakin' dog just sat there and let them."

"Stupid dog," Bianca agreed, stifling her laughter. _She_ thought it was funny, and in a few days, Kat would, too, but for now, it seemed to be stressing her sister out, so Bianca let it go. "So, hey. Let me ask you a question. Has Chastity _always_ been so self-involved?"

Kat snorted. "Even more than Paris Hilton," she informed her sister.

"Yikes," Bianca said. "Honestly, Kat, these have been the longest two days of my life! I overate at lunch to make myself sick today so that I'd have an excuse to leave."

Kat laughed. "I'm so proud of my little sister," she said. "You're really growing up."

Bianca laughed. "Yes, eating myself so that the seams on my clothes were bursting was very adult of me."

"Hey," Kat said. "You got away from Chastity, and as far as I'm concerned, all bets are off when it comes to that girl. And they always have been."

Bianca sighed. "Yes, well, I am _so_ on that bandwagon."

"It took you long enough to get here, but welcome aboard."

"Thanks," Bianca said. And then, "Are you DVRing America's Next Top Model for me?"

"No," Kat said sarcastically.

"Kat! I'm serious. I need to find out who wins. I want it to be Brittany, but all of the other girls are jealous of her, and I'm pretty sure they're going to try and sabotage her!"

"Yes, Bianca," Kat told her sister. "I am DVRing America's Next Top Model for you."

"And Project Runway?" Bianca asked urgently. "Are you DVRing Project Runway?"

"Yes, I am DVRing Project Runway. And that other show, too. What was it? Make It or Break It?"

"Oh, yes. One of my faves," Bianca said. "Good to know. I will be on vacation when I get back, and I want to make sure that I have plenty to do to keep me busy!"

"You mean to keep you in your pajamas on the couch eating bon-bons?" Kat joked.

"Aren't they one and the same?" Bianca returned.

Kat laughed. "So, you're going to be gone for two weeks?"

"Yes," Bianca said. "The hope is that I'll be able to get the James estate photographed within a few days. Some morning shots, some day shots, and some evening shots. And then they want me to get acquainted with some of the shop owners in town and see if they'll let me photograph some of their places, too. They're going to do a whole spread if they can get permission from enough places."

"This is new," Kat said.

"Yeah," Bianca agreed. "It's usually just the one house and that's it. But they're thinking of dedicating the entire issues to three places. They want to find three towns that are perceived to be 'quaint' and focus on them. Small town America," Bianca explained.

"Well, small towns _do_ tend to be more traditional," Kat said.

'Yeah," Bianca agreed. "Anyway, I just wanted to check in."

"And make sure I was DVRing all of your fluff?" Kat asked.

"Yes," Bianca admitted.

"I am," Kat promised. "Have fun with Olympus," she teased. It was a running joke between the sisters that the only thing Bianca would commit to was her camera.

"I will," Bianca returned. "Bye, Kat."

"Bye."

Bianca heard the line click and hit the button on her blue tooth, then took it back out of her ear and put it in the console of her Yukon Denali. Bianca hadn't seen Chastity since their days at Rhode Island School of Design and quite frankly, after this last visit, she had no plans to see her again anytime soon. After being kept on such a short leash all through high school, she'd spent much of her college years in a drunken haze. She liked to think that that was the reason she'd remained friends with Chastity for so long. But she knew it wasn't true. In her younger years, Bianca's main ambition was to be popular. And Chastity was the fastest avenue to achieving that goal. She sighed as she wondered if that made her as shallow as Chastity was. She hoped not. _She'd _moved far away from that aspiration and was just trying to live her life. But it was clear to her that Chastity hadn't. She'd spent most of their time together complaining about the people she worked with at the magazine _Boston Today_. Chastity wrote a small column—barely half a page, really—regarding fashion do's and don'ts, and while it was a fine job, Bianca didn't quite think it qualified Chastity to decide whether or not the other writers should be there.

Bianca pushed Chastity from her mind—instead taking in the sites as she made her way out of Beantown. Normally the magazine put her up in a hotel when she went on a shoot, but the James estate had a small, one bedroom guest house that they had insisted on putting her up in. Bianca's plan after she'd arrived and unpacked was to tour the estate on foot; she'd received permission prior to arriving. She hoped to get a feel for the layout of the property. She'd check it out to see if there was anything that would need rearranging—sometimes people thought that more decorations meant more festive, but sometimes it just meant tacky. It was her job to decide what would look best on camera and do whatever sweet talking was necessary to make that happen.

She turned the radio on to drown out her thoughts—she had a tendency to think too much—and enjoy the rest of the ride.

___

Forty five minutes later, Bianca checked the address on the mailbox and proceeded to turn into the long driveway. It was lined with what she assumed were Red Maples—she'd never been good with trees and these ones didn't have leaves on them anymore—and she could just imagine what it would look like in the fall with leaves the colors of Golden Delicious apples gracing the branches. "Beautiful," she whispered to herself.

Bianca had seen a lot of beautiful houses during her years of employment with _Traditional Country Magazine_, and this one was no exception. It was an uncomplicated two story Cape with an attached three car garage, but for some reason, the simplicity only added to its allure. The house was a slate blue color with a white trim, and there was an old fashioned fence on each side of the house—the ones that were held up with two wooden posts, and then another two pieces of wood going across. Simple and elegant looking. They were decorated with pine garland and pine cones mixed in, and twined in with them were blue colored Christmas lights. Bianca assumed that there was more to see, but her stomach was bothering her—karma for lying to Chastity, she was sure—and all she could think about was getting out of her vehicle and onto unmoving ground.

She pulled up in front of the house and got out of the vehicle. She held onto the door for a minute to steady herself because she was feeling a little light-headed. She closed her eyes, and after a few deep breaths, she closed the door and made her way up the paved footpath to the front door. She rang the doorbell and waited. It wasn't long before the door was opened. "Bianca," the man who opened it said in astonishment just as she began seeing spots.

"Cameron?" she said weakly. And then promptly threw up on his shoes.


	3. Chapter 2

"Bianca!" Cameron exclaimed, catching her before she hit the floor.

"Cameron, what—holy shit!" Phil was at his side in an instant. "What the hell happened?" he asked.

Cameron shrugged as he lowered her to the ground. "I don't know. I said hello, and…she threw up on my shoes," he said with a frown.

Phil grinned. "Let's hope this isn't a trend," he said, stuffing the last bite of a no-bake cookie in his mouth. He knelt down beside Cameron and Bianca and reached for her wrist.

"Is she going to be OK?" Cameron asked worriedly.

"Her pulse is a little high," Phil said. He pulled his stethoscope from around his neck and proceeded to listen to Bianca's heartbeat. Hazard of the job. He'd stopped by on his way home from work, and he'd forgotten to take his stethoscope off before he left. "She seems to be OK," he said. Cameron's worry didn't escape his attention.

They heard Bianca groan as she tried to sit up.

"Just lay back," Phil instructed. "Are you still feeling nauseous?"

Bianca nodded weakly. "My stomach doesn't feel very well."

"What did you have for lunch?" he asked.

"A chicken Caesar salad," she answered.

Phil nodded. "It could be food poisoning," he said. "Or the flu."

"How do we know which one it is?" Cameron asked.

"If it's gone by tomorrow or the next day, it's probably food poisoning," Phil explained. "If it persists, then it's the flu."

Cameron nodded.

"Why don't you help her to the couch while I track down a trash can?" Phil suggested.

Cameron stepped out of his shoes, and then lifted Bianca into his arms despite her protests and carried her into the living room. He laid her down onto the couch. "Are you cold?" he asked.

"A little chilly," she admitted.

He pulled the afghan off the back of the couch and covered her up with it. "Well, this is a surprise," he said.

Bianca nodded. "For me, too."

"I didn't know you'd gotten married," he told her.

"I'm sorry?" she said in confusion.

"Your last name," he explained. "They told me it was Kendall."

Bianca shook her head with a wince. "Kendall was my mom's name," she informed him. "I use it professionally."

"Here you go," Phil said as he walked back into the room before Cameron could absorb that information. Phil put the trash can down beside the couch. "I predict you're going to need this," he said.

"Thanks," Bianca said weakly.

Phil grinned. "No problem." He turned to his brother in law. "Walk me out?" he said, as though Cameron had a choice. But before he could say anything, Phil grabbed his arm and practically dragged him into the kitchen. "OK," he said. "Put away the puppy dog eyes and tell me who this girl is!"

"What do you mean?" Cameron asked evasively.

Phil put a hand on his hip and gave Cameron a dirty look. "I'm not an idiot," he said. "Do you know how many chemistry classes I had to take to get through med school? I'm a chemistry genius. And you, my friend, have it! With that voluptuous woman in there!" He used his hands to outline the curves of a woman's body.

"We don't have chemistry," Cameron said.

"Relax," Phil said. "You loved my sister, blah blah blah. But it's been three years. Ever think of dating again? A little sex, maybe?"

"It's time for you to go," Cameron said, grabbing his elbow and steering him towards the front door.

"Fill me in!" Phil persisted.

Cameron sighed. He let go of his brothers arm and came to a stop, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. "She's just someone I went to high school with," he said.

"Did you date her?" Phil asked.

Cameron shifted his stance uncomfortably. "Not exactly."

"Did you sleep with her?" Phil asked.

Cameron nodded.

"Is this the girl...?" Phil stared at him for a minute. "This is the girl you slept with on graduation night."

Again, Cameron nodded.

"The one that got away," he said softly.

"She's not the one that got away," Cameron said heatedly. "I loved your sister!"

"Yes, you did," Phil agreed. "And I'm glad that I introduced the two of you. But before you met her, you said this girl was the one who got away."

Cameron didn't say anything.

"What are you gonna do about it?" Phil asked.

"What do you mean 'what are you going to do about it?'" Cameron asked. "I'm not gonna do anything."

"You wanna know what I think?" Phil asked.

"No," Cameron said.

"I think you should take her virginity again!" he said.

Cameron rolled his eyes. "It's becoming clearer to me every day why you aren't married."

"I like to play the field," Phil said. "And I'll tell ya what—I had a few that got away, too. And what I wouldn't give to have a few of them back."

"Don't let the door hit you in the ass," Cameron said as he pulled a glass out of the cupboard. After Phil left, he filled the glass with water and returned to the living room.

___

_What in the hell am I going to do?_ Bianca thought frantically as she sat up. She couldn't stay here in this house—in _Cameron's_ house. She was going to have to go to a hotel. That's all there was to it. She looked around and much to her relief, she didn't see his wife. She'd have to have some time to collect herself before _that_ introduction. She tried to stand, but fell back onto the couch. "Dammitt," she said angrily. How in the hell was she going to get out of here?

"You OK?" Cameron asked as he strode into the room.

"I'm not sure," she told him.

"Still feeling light-headed?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yeah."

"Let's see if we can get you up and to the guest house," he said. "If this is the flu, I don't want to infect my…staff," he finished tentatively. "We'll get you to your vehicle and then I'll drive you to the guest house and get your things unloaded for you."

She nodded. "Good idea," she said, trying again to stand. "I didn't see your wife," she said. She started falling back down onto the couch but Cameron reached for her, grabbing her elbow to steady her.

"Thanks," she said breathlessly.

He nodded and helped her as they took a step. "Thanks, Chrissy," he said to the maid, who was cleaning up the mess in the hallway.

"I'm sorry," Bianca said with a groan.

"No need to worry about it," Cameron assured her. "And my wife…she died a few years ago."

Bianca's eyes flew to his. "I'm so sorry," she said sincerely as she stumbled.

"It's…OK," he said uncomfortably, still unsure how to deal with the sympathy, even after the past few years. "Are you even going to be able to make it to the vehicle?" he asked.

"I'm not sure," she said. "I can try."

He shook his head, helping her move backwards. "Why don't you sit for a few minutes? Maybe you'll regain a little strength."

She nodded.

"Drink of water?" he asked, handing her the glass.

She took a sip, and then put the cup back down onto the coffee table. "Your house is lovely," she said, at a loss for words. What _did_ one say after meeting up with the man who took your virginity all these years later? She supposed it could have been less awkward had she not disappeared before he woke up the next morning.

"Thanks," Cameron said.

"So, what do you do for work, Cameron?" she asked, starting with the basics. She had to start _some_where.

"I'm an architect," he told her.

She nodded, looking around the house. The house was beautiful, she hadn't lied about that. But not quite what she'd expect from an architects living quarters.

"The house was my wife's idea," he said, as if reading her mind. "She said that she had a choice between picking out a house for us and having more time together, or losing me to designing and then overseeing the construction of it all."

Bianca grinned softly at him. "And she chose you."

He nodded and then looked at the front door as he heard a commotion.

"Daddy!" a little girl squealed as she came running into the room like lightning.

_Daddy?_ Bianca thought.

"Hey, B," he said as his little girl jumped into his arms.

Bianca's eyes flew from the little girl who'd sprinted to her daddy to the little boy standing hesitantly in the doorway of the living room. "Who's _that_?" he asked, pointing to the couch.

Cameron looked at his son. "Jesse, this is the woman I told you about. She's going to be taking some pictures of our house and yard. They're gonna be in a magazine."

The little boy nodded solemnly, and Bianca felt her heart break at the sight of him. He wasn't wearing a smile like her nephews usually did. And from the look in his eyes, it was apparent that he didn't smile very much at all.

She smiled softly at him. "My name is Bianca," she said, her tone welcoming.

He didn't say anything—just nodded again.

And the little girl in Cameron's arms gasped, causing Bianca's attention to shift to her.

"_My_ name is Bianca," the little girl said excitedly, putting her hands on her chest.

Bianca's eyes flew to Cameron's.

"We…call her B," he said. And then, "My wife picked out her name," he explained sheepishly.


End file.
